


You Won't Understand (And You May As Well Not Try)

by PotionsMistressM



Category: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionsMistressM/pseuds/PotionsMistressM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anastasia is dead.  Long live the Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Won't Understand (And You May As Well Not Try)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the midseason finale. Written for the Cap Claim challenge at LJ's onceuponaland, using [these caps](http://i1197.photobucket.com/albums/aa423/inabsentialuci/Team%20Swan/picspam.png) as a prompt. Title is from Suzanne Vega's "The Queen and the Soldier" (which may just be my new go-to RQ theme song). Also, I was really inspired by Emma Rigby's ability to look like she's really about to burst into tears even though she's laughing or smiling (like the way her eyes are all shiny and tear-filled in the cap).

There are times when thoughts fly so quickly through your head that it's impossible to analyze each one separately and yet the whole of them combined tells you all you need to know. Anastasia blinked the tears from her eyes and felt the all-too-familiar clenching of her jaw begin. She had been honest. She had done the right thing. She had told the bloody truth! 

She had allowed herself to become vulnerable. 

"Where is he?" she screamed, her eyes blazing. It was a trick. That degenerate little genie had somehow tricked her, or Will, or had somehow managed to manipulate Will's wish. Her hands balled into fists, her nails puncturing her palm in little crescent-shaped wounds. "WHERE IS HE?!?"

The genie managed to at least look like he was trying to think. Alice stood gaping like a fish ( _a particularly dim-witted fish_ , Anastasia thought). But as the genie began to speak, Anastasia wished he never had. "Where's the bottle?"

Anastasia bit the inside of her cheeks, scrunched her eyes closed, and took a deep, agitated breath. As she exhaled, her spine straightened, her shoulders rolled back, and her head tilted back slightly- just enough to ensure that she would be looking down on everyone, no matter their height. She stood, opening her eyes and settling her her mouth into her signature half-smirk, half-scowl. She had allowed herself to be Anastasia again for just a few moments, and look where it had gotten her. Her palace was in ruins, Jafar was now her enemy, and Will- the entire reason for all of her silly, stupid weakness- was gone, stuck in a bottle for the rest of his days. A bottle, she reminded herself, that had somehow become lost during Jafar's little hissy fit of a thunderstorm.

"Anastasia," Alice began, "we'll find him. He's my friend, too."

Alice. It was always bloody _Alice_. Alice, with the perfect lover who would do anything to be with her. Alice, with her stupid, useless hope and faith and optimism. Alice, who could charm anyone, make friends with anyone. Alice, who knew Will- _loved Will_ \- better than anyone else (present company excluded). Pretty little Alice, who had made friends with the Hatter, giving that loon hope of getting out of Wonderland and seeing his daughter again. Having tea parties with the bufoon and introducing him to the White Rabbit. The Hatter had come to think of Alice as a second daughter, though that was really no concern of hers. The Hatter was Cora's creature, and Ana always played by the rules of the game. There were plenty of pawns on her own side of the board she could use without trying to steal any of those belonging to the Queen of Hearts. Besides, Cora was really more of a loose cannon, far less controlled than her Red counterpart who appreciated logic and order. The Red Queen was chess. The Queen of Hearts was something else altogether, something far less structured... croquet, perhaps.

A less dignified woman- someone less _regal_ , would have let out a scream at the child's presumptuous statement, her uncalled-for optimism. But the Queen was done pretending to be something less. She sneered and extended her hand, clenching an invisible hand around Alice's throat. Cyrus made a move closer to Alice's side, but the Queen flicked her hand lazily, freezing him in place. She may have a use for him at some point, but she had no time for his Alice-saving heroics at the moment. Or ever.

"Do _not_ call me that! Not _ever_ again," she snarled, the weak woman who had so recently begged for Alice's trust gone and forgotten. "Do you understand?"

Alice's eyes bulged and she nodded as well as she could whilst being strangled. The Red Queen only squeezed harder, moving closer to Alice. When she was close enough to look the frightened girl in the eyes, she hissed at her, all traces of Anastasia's graceless, undignified accents fallen by the wayside.

"The proper response is, 'Yes, Your Majesty.'" 

The child mumbled the words, and the Queen released her grip. Alice fell to the ground, gasping and choking. The Queen began to walk away, a self-satisfied, almost lazy smile spreading across her face. She waited until she was almost out of earshot before flicking her hand half-heartedly back toward the genie and releasing him as well.

It was good to be Queen.


End file.
